You jump, I jump
by Die an Outsider
Summary: Well, I have only done one poem on this site so far, and I finally decided to write a story. It features Pony, Johnny and Dally. Johnny is at the end of his rope, but when he is in such great pain, Pony and Dally are in pain too.
1. Chapter 1

It was a regular early December Saturday afternoon, except maybe it was a little too quiet at the house. Darry had to work, and Soda and Steve were out. Two-Bit came by earlier, but seeing that no one was around he left. Dally was in the cooler, not that he'd stay here with me to keep me company anyway. Not sure I'd want him to either. I was getting really bored. I've been reading this book earlier, but I got kind of tired of it. I wished Johnny would come over like he did a lot of times on Saturdays and weekdays too. But a lot of times he wouldn't come over any more. If things were bad at home and he was in a depressed mood, he wouldn't come over. He'd go to the lot to cool off, and only after a few days he'd start coming over again. I didn't like when he got like that, and I wished I could be there, but I knew he wanted to be alone and I could understand and respect that. Today must be one of those days 'cause otherwise he'd be here by now. Still I was so bored, that I decided to go to the lot to see him. I mean it's not like he's gonna tell me to leave or anything.

It was getting cold outside, even though I wasn't complaining considering it was December. Usually, it was much colder by this time of December. This year it felt more like late November or something. Anyway, I made sure to put my warm jacket on. I guess being away in Windrixville taught me a thing or two. I try to use my head more, and Soda said I'm getting better at it, though I think he's just saying that for my sake.

I was so convinced that Johnny was at the lot, that I was caught off-guard when I got there and saw no sign of him whatsoever. He never stays home most of the time. He seizes any chance to get out. He only goes there to sleep, and even then half the time he sleeps at the lot or our place. Any other time I would think that maybe he's with Dal, but Dallas was in the cooler.

I felt a heavy feeling in my chest as I realized the only other answer to where he would be. I wanted to pretend that it's not the case, and maybe he just went out to buy cigarettes or something, but I knew that was not the case. I could just feel it.

My first instinct was to run to his house, but then what would I do once I get there? I can't do anything to his father. He won't stop just 'cause I'm there. A while ago, I remember, he belted Johnny with that 2 by 4 right in front of me and he didn't care that I was there. I shuddered at the memory. That man is ruthless. Yet I quickened my pace walking in the direction of Johnny's house. Maybe once I'm there I can distract his old man or bluff that I'd call the cops or something. Though he knows that Johnny hasn't done this 'cause no matter how bad he has it there, he doesn't want to end up in a boys home. So his old man knows that and uses that fully to his advantage. And 'sides you just don't call the cops on this side of town. _They_ call you. You call them and you risk being booked for whatever had happened that day and they need someone to pin it on.

I sarted walking even faster. Didn't like the suspense, just wanted to get there and get it over with. Finally, I got to his house. I stopped outside the door trying to listen in. Usually, if his folks were fighting you could hear them all the way down the street. But I guess his dad kept it quiet during the beatings 'cause as shady as our neighborhood was, he was scared someone _would_ call child abuse line or something. The saddest thing though, I think, is that a lot of people know or had guessed that that's what's going on at Johnny's house. But nobody really cares 'cept for the gang. A lot of times even greasers would give him shit, just 'cause he is so quiet and doesn't look so mean like the rest of them. He is a good target for them to pick on. And a lot of them know of the beatings and that doesn't stop them none. And they know that he isn't a pussy or anything, and is good in a fight, but that doesn't stop them either.

Anyway, now I was standing by the door and trying to listen in, and even though his dad kept quiet during the beatings, and Johnny wouldn't let so much as a whimper, I was sure I would hear something standing this close. Like maybe him swearing under his breath, or sounds of broken bottles, but I didn't hear anything. It was really quiet. I knocked on the door just in case if his folks were around. I got no answer and knocked again, and got no answer again. Unable to wait any longer, I opened the door and walked in. It was kind of dark inside, in spite of, the fact that it was just a couple of hours after noon. All the lights were off, and all the shades were down.

"Johnny you in here?" I yelled as I walked in. I got no answer, but I heard some kind of rustle just for a few seconds, and then it got quiet again. I went in the direction of the rustle, which was upstairs, where Johnny's room was. I got upstairs, skipping a step as I did. The door to his room was opened and I could see him sitting on the floor in one of the corners. His knees pulled to his chest, his head down, staring into space.

He saw me walk in, but didn't say anything. His face looked terrible. It was all puffy and stuff, and blood was smudged all over it, like if he wiped it with the sleeve of his shirt or something. You could see the bruises and a shiner even from where I stood. One eye was completely swollen with the black-blue mark around it. There was blood above his lips, and you could see it getting all dried up, but not dry just yet. Guess he missed that spot when he was wiping it with his sleeve. The lips were busted and all puffy and swollen, and there was especially huge bruise on his right cheekbone. His shirt was torn in a couple of places and you could see marks from the beating, and there were a couple of gashes that were still partly bleeding and marks of the blood that had already dried up.

But most terrible was the look in his eyes. It was this blank, numb look of a person whose life was completely knocked out of him. He was just staring into space from under his bangs, and there was complete indifference in that look. He still didn't say anything. I felt kind of stupid and didn't know what to say. You wouldn't say 'what happened?' since it's quite obvious what had happened. And you wouldn't say 'Are you ok?' since it's also obvious that he's not.

"What are you doing here?" He finally said, not looking directly at me. His voice sounded quiet, dull and indifferent and scratchier than it usually was. But underneath the indifference and the numbness there was hurt. And something else, some other thing that I couldn't quite place… shame?

"You weren't' at the lot, so I came by," I said simply. He didn't answer, and silence once again filled the room.

"You got a cigarette?" He asked.

"Here," I gave it to him. He placed it between his busted lips, and I lit up, using my lighter. He took a deep inhale, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall, but then took it back out right away. "Shit," he cursed. I guess the smoke went into the wounds on his lips and it hurt.

He brought the cigarette to his lips again, more carefully this time, and took another long drag still staring into space.

"I'm tired," he finally said, not looking at me. His voice sounded dead, it was very low, almost not audible, and there was no expression in it, like it was just dead. That's the only way I can describe it. "Tired of all this shit," he continued, "it just seems like this is never gonna stop." And this time he sounded bitter and hopeless. "Like even if I get out of this house, there still be something else, you know, the socs, the cops and shit, stupid people at the social services. No jobs and shit like that. I'll just end up like my old man." He finished.

"Don't talk like that, Johnny." I said.

"Why not? – it's the truth."

"C'mon Johnny, I'll help you clean up." I said coming up closer. All of the sudden the look in his eyes flashed this anger, and he prompted himself up, while grounding the cigarette.

"I am not ten anymore, you know," he said, "I can take care of myself." He tried to sound cold, but again I could sense hurt and pain underneath the coldness.

I wanted to leave then. If all of the sudden he doesn't want my help that's fine. I was all worried about him and that's why I even stopped by, but if he's acting like this I'll be gone 'fore he can turn around. But I realized that he was just feeling lousy and that's why he was acting like that and saying stuff like that. In the past, when he was younger whenever he was hurt he'd come to our house and one of the guys would clean him up and even do the stitches if needed. But like I said, lately he stopped doing that. Instead, he'd disappear for a few days, and then show up a few days later.

Johnny made a funny sound, rubbing his left side and leaning on the wall with his right hand. I guess his ribs were pretty messed up. Finally, he made it to the bathroom. He let the cold water run and stuck his head in, letting the water run down his bloody face, neck and shoulders. From time to time he'd make this somewhat hissed sound. I guess when the water got into the wound and it hurt a little.

"At least let me help you, you are not gonna be able to reach to clean and bandage those gashes yourself." I said pointing to the gashes where his shirt was torn.

"I'll be fine." He said calmly, but firmly, and he kind of looked down. His voice didn't sound cold or mean this time, but he was kind of looking down, and I realized he didn't want me there staring at him while he was doing this.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna go then." I said, my voice lower than I intended, "Come over if you need anything, 'k?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice kind of hoarse, "thanks," and this time he didn't avoid eye contact with me. I left, hearing the shower turn on as I was walking towards the door.

When I got home I read a little more, then went to shoot some ball with Soda and Two-Bit, but then Steve showed up and him and Soda had to go somewhere so Two-Bit gave me a ride home.


	2. Chapter2

I haven't heard from Johnny on Sunday, but I didn't think much of it since I knew that he lets a few days go by before he starts coming over again. By the following Sunday though I started to get a little worried. And even Darry, who's busy all the time and is not paying that much attention to who is in and out of the house, had asked me about Johnny. "He just needs his space," I said, "I'm sure he'll turn up soon enough." But I felt some uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I didn't like how it felt. What if his old man did more damage? More than Johnny could handle.

I had so much homework to do. I was behind, which I was not telling Darry about, and I was supposed to make it up by Monday. I kept trying to do the homework, but I couldn't go on for more than 10-15 minutes at a time. I would just snap out of it - my thoughts going back to Johnny, and how come he haven't shown up or called or he haven't been seen anywhere by any of the guys either.

I willed myself to concentrate on the work. It was getting dark, and I felt exhausted. I have only done one third of the stuff I was supposed to do. Shit, I thought, I'll have to stay up all night so I can finish it. I really have to bring it all in tomorrow. I'll stay up, not like I haven't done that before. I'd just have to put up a show for Darry pretending I'm going to sleep and then getting up and finishing this stupid homework.

"Pony, are you done with your work?" I heard Darry yelling from the other room.

"Yeah, I am." I lied. Darry hasn't been checking my every single homework lately since he's got to trusting me more. But he still looks it over a lot of times. Just to make sure it's right. This whole week I haven't been telling him the truth of what's been assigned so he couldn't figure that I haven't done it.

"Do you want me to look it over?" He yelled again.

"Sure Dare," – I didn't want him to suspect anything. So he came in, and looked over the parts that I've completed by now, not aware that there was more. I mean much more. He picked up on a few mistakes. Some of them were really stupid, and he kind of gave me this look that said what on earth is wrong with you? But I wasn't surprised I made those dumb mistakes like that. My mind was on something else and I was completely spacing out every 10 minutes and couldn't concentrate to save my life. I was surprised I even got _some_ of the stuff right. Man, no wonder Johnny messes up in school all the time. He's always a nervous wreck, his mind is always on other stuff. Like his parents and his life, and he's got severe concentration issues.

Darry was looking at me expectantly.

"I'm just tired is all." I said fixing the errors.

"All right go on, get some sleep then." He said leaving the room.

"Sure thing," I muttered under my breath sarcastically.

As Darry closed the door behind him, I turned the light off, but turned a little desk lamp on and kept doing this stupid homework. I was exhausted; my thoughts were even more mixed up than before. Now it wasn't just switching between trying to do the homework and Johnny, but it was everything else. It was about how this is my last year of school, and how I should be going off to college, and how things are supposed to change, but I don't really want them to, and yet I want them to at the same time. And how come Two- Bit is not worried abut any of this stuff, and not even Soda. Maybe I shouldn't even go to college.

Then I started thinking about how my mom didn't have any brothers or sisters at all, and how it must've been hard for her 'cause she had nobody to back her up, and my dad had this cousin, but he was nothing like my dad. He was mean and nasty. God! I stopped myself - why was I thinking all this irrelevant and completely random stuff _now_? I think I got an overload of information while trying to catch up with this homework, and this was my mind's way of relieving itself.

I made an effort to concentrate and then tried to do some more work, but after about 10 minutes my thoughts jumped back to Johnny.

Next thing I knew, I woke up - my head on top of the opened notebook on my desk. Shit, I must've fallen asleep I thought rubbing my eyes. I glanced at the clock – it was 5:30 a.m. Shit, shit, shit - but I still got **some** time – Darry usually woke me up at around 7. I tiptoed to the bathroom, as not to wake Soda or Darry, and splashed some cold water on my face to feel more awake. Then I went back to my room. My stomach was making funny sounds. I didn't really feel hungry at all, but by the sounds the stomach was making I guess I was. Ignoring it, I went back to the homework.

I felt exhausted though, and restless. Like I couldn't keep sitting on that chair anymore. I got up and walked around the room. I felt trapped in those 4 walls; I felt the need to get out. Walking around helped a little bit, but not really. I wished I could go outside and take a long walk. I wished it was 7 already so I could at least get out of the room. I sat back down. I decided to switch from math to something else, so I closed my math notebook and got the Social Studies book out.

After reading a little bit my mind started jumping to thinking about Johnny again, and then to some random and irrelevant stuff and all this stuff we read in Social Studies books. I felt like my mind was literally on fire.

I wanted to smoke, but Darry's gonna get suspicious if he gets in here at 7 and there is smoke in the room. Great, I can't even smoke now. The homework was forgotten. I sat down on the edge of the bed reluctantly. I may as well go to sleep for the almost 2 hours that I got left. I couldn't fall asleep though, and my head was about to fall off it hurt so bad.

I got up again and tiptoed to the bathroom again and grabbed some aspirins out of the medicine cabinet. I swallowed them on the way back to my room. Without water - just like that. I was feeling even more restless, if that was even possible. I waited for the alarm to go off, and for Darry to come in to make sure that I'm up.

Finally, the blasted alarm went off.

"You up Pony?" I heard Dairy's voice shortly after.

"Yeah, I'm up Dar," - I tried to sound casual. God, but my head hurt. Even those aspirins didn't take care of it. Maybe when I get outside the headache would stop.

I got downstairs. I put all my effort into not looking like I'd been up all night. Darry made an omelette. He made good omelettes - with onions and sausage. After I ate, the headache subsided a little bit, and I felt better.

They didn't notice anything. Dar was too busy with making sure everything was put away before he went off to work, and Soda was too preoccupied with himself, and trying to find his uniform and shit, and not be late for work. Finally, they said their goodbyes, and took off.

I sighed, gathering all my books together and putting them into my backpack. What am I going to say when they ask me to turn in all that late homework? I have a couple of less or more good buddies that would let me copy theirs. I've done it before. I mean, rarely, but it did happen. But the thing is that most of my classes are full of socs, and I don't have any of my buddies there.

I started walking. Dragging is more like it. My head still hurt even though I was feeling better than before. Suddenly it occurred to me – I should skip. Yeah, I should just skip today. I don't have most of my homework done anyway, and what's the point of sitting there listening in humiliation to teachers yell at you or lecture you or tell you how you've been such a good boy (I hated when they referred to me as boy, by the way) with such potential and you are throwing it all away. I was screwed anyway, so I should just skip.

Yeah, I'll skip and maybe not just today. Maybe I'll skip a few days, and I'll make up all my homework during these days, and then it will all be fine. I'll need a note or something saying I was sick. I'm sure Two-Bit will do it for me, he won't mind. Hey, I'll even come down to the cooler and visit Dal and ask him to write that stupid note for me if I have to. Now, _he_ definitely won't mind. I smiled at the thought and the image of Dallas having to write a stupid school note for me while in jail. Now that really _was_ funny.

It was decided then – me, Ponyboy Curtis, a former straight A student (well, almost) was skipping school today. I turned around and started walking back to my house. I felt relieved. I'll go home, and do this stupid homework. No need to sit through the night trying to finish it. Then I remembered about Johnny, and my heart fell. Something was terribly wrong. He hasn't shown up or been heard of for an entire week. I should go and look for him. Yeah, right now. Homework can wait!


End file.
